Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge
by snackfiend101
Summary: Having trouble completing Academy as a light-sider because you can't stand letting Rosh live? Enjoying beating up on Kyle way too much? Then this is the story for you! Read and enjoy. Any and all reviews welcomed. (COMPLETE)
1. Dark Times, Dark Places

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hello, and welcome to yet another little disaster, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood snackfiend! This story is for Leandjo (hope I spelled that right!), and schmrdlbrgr sweetheart (hope I spelled that right, too), as well as for the usual suspects, sammie teufel and the gamorrean princess. Gamorrean princess gets her name mentioned twice 'cos she beta-ed this for me. Anyway, this story involves death, dismemberment, destruction, dark-side-ness, and defenestration (well, not really, but it sounded good). Consider yourselves warned. Featuring evil!Jaden, deadmeat!Rosh, confused-and-slightly- ineffective!Kyle, and nonexistent!ending. First chapter up! Starts out near the end of Bast Castle, natch.

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THREE CHEERS FOR SWEET REVENGE**

**CHAPTER ONE: DARK TIMES, DARK PLACES**

"Rosh?" Overtones of surprise and shock colored Jaden's voice as she stopped dead on the threshold of Darth Vader's old throne room.

"I sensed your presence, Jaden," her once-friend informed her, eminently unsurprised, turning slowly from the throne. The staff in his hand was familiar—it was the same one Jaden had seen the dark Jedi use, back on Yavin at the Massassi Temple.

Her mind blanked out with shock. She'd never expected to see that evil thing… in Rosh's hand.

Cold eyes. Hard face. Tense posture. This wasn't the Rosh she'd known.

"What are you doing?" she asked carefully, keeping her voice low and level with an effort.

A cold chuckle. "What does it look like I'm doing?" He took a step towards her, ignoring the two goons hanging out to either side of him. "I could ask you the same question, Jaden."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"You're on the losing side. Why don't you join us?" Rosh asked, as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Join—Rosh—no! What are you—I don't—"

"Kyle _was_ holding us back. I was right. We can be so much more powerful—the _power_, Jaden. Imagine it."

"I never wanted power!" Jaden protested, fumbling for words. "Neither did you! Don't do this, Rosh," she warned him, seeing something change in his cold blue eyes. "You're a Jedi, damn you!" The last was a desperate appeal to her old friend.

His face changed again—he looked lost, confused, bewildered. The staff slipped from his fingers to hit the floor with a loud clatter. "Jay—I—"

"Enough!" snarled one of the goons, stepping between Jaden and Rosh. She felt a surge of the Force and instinctively tried to block it.

She didn't even see the blow coming. One moment, she was standing there, the next, she was flying across the room. She hit a pillar and felt something crack. Fortunately, it was the pillar itself, and not her bones.

With a groan, she tightened her grip on her lightsaber, hauling herself gamely to her feet.

Only to face Rosh once again. His face was blank, empty. His eyes blazed with anger. And there was a red lightsaber in his hand.

She ducked, just in time, her eyes wide. Her own weapon came out with the signature snap-hiss, and red strained against green for a long moment. She broke the stalemate, staggering backwards, barely in time to avoid getting punched in the head by a goon.

The green blade of her lightsaber swept up, decapitating the goon neatly. He sprawled bonelessly on the floor. Jaden's eyes narrowed. One down, one to go.

Two.

The red blade hummed menacingly close to her face. She scrambled backwards, blocking him again and again. She _knew_ she was the better fighter of the two. She _knew_ it…

Dammit!

She bound the red blade with her own, forcing him down, forcing him back. As soon as there was sufficient space, she lashed out with a foot, catching him in the hip. He'd gotten shot there, no more than a few weeks ago, and she knew it would still bother him.

That surprised him. It was his turn to stagger back, nearly tripping over the body of the headless goon. Jaden advanced. He managed to turn aside her blows, but it was a close thing.

With a distracting roar, the second goon charged Jaden. She whirled, lightsaber moving up into a defensive posture. A wave of the Force hit her with punishing momentum. She managed to deflect it, but it wasn't easy for her. Defensive Force powers were not her strength.

Her blade left smoking tears in his tunic. The smell of burning flesh made her nostrils flare in distaste.

_Never take your eyes off your enemy._

She saw the red blade approaching, barely in time to throw herself bodily backwards. She knew she could never avoid it entirely…

Pain exploded in her face, her jaw. Again, she smelled the horrible odor of burning meat and knew that this time, it was her own flesh. She staggered, completely off-balance from her desperate dodge. Her vision was cloudy for some reason, and shock and pain dulled her reactions.

The last goon standing advanced on her slowly, grinning, certain the injured apprentice was an easy target. Jaden felt the phantom grip of the Force tighten around her neck as he came closer. Her breathing quickened in panic, and automatically, she drew on the Force, knocking him backwards. The grip was broken.

Again she called on the Force, letting it run through her, healing the wound, making the agony recede. Her vision cleared, and she brought up her weapon, parallel to the floor, as the second man charged her.

He impaled himself. Jaden coolly finished the job, yanking the blade sideways and down, then freeing it with a swift twist.

Then she turned to face Rosh, her grip on her lightsaber tightening. He backed up, eyes flicking to either side, weapon held out in an aggressive guard position. He had to know retreating wouldn't help.

He lunged forward again, blade leading. It hummed dangerously close to Jaden's face, but she swayed out of the way, sullen rage burning in her chest. She raised a hand, gathering in the Force.

She had meant to knock him backwards, buy herself time, time to think…to control her anger. But what emerged from her outstretched fingers was not a wave of the Force…

Blue-white lightning spat from her fingers, crackling eagerly as it bridged the distance between the two. It grounded in Rosh's chest, sprouting hungry tentacles, crawling along his limbs. He stiffened, cried out, a stuttering, desperate, choking scream. There was a clatter as his hand spasmed, his lightsaber hitting the floor.

Jaden advanced. The lightning died out, but the power hummed at the back of her mind, filling her. She spun her lightsaber in her other hand.

His breathing echoed in the room, tortured gasps that inspired a sense of cruel satisfaction in Jaden. Almost without thinking about it, she raised a hand to her face, feeling the rough texture of the scar that now marred her jaw. So she'd hurt him. It was surely nothing worse than what he'd done to her.

He straightened, painfully. His eyes blazed with anger. One arm was protectively across his midriff, as though it still pained him. The other hand clenched slowly into a fist…

…and now it was Jaden gasping for breath. _Damn it!_ She dimly felt her feet leave the floor, but most of her attention was concentrated on her neck and lungs, gasping painfully for breath.

Force Push had broken the hold before.

Jaden couldn't force her mind to calm. Panic started to overcome her as she clawed at her throat. _This isn't helping!_

With a supreme effort, she reached out a hand, gathering in the Force. It was impossible to separate Force and anger…

She fell to the floor. She caught herself on one hand and a knee, keeping her other hand steady, keeping the arc of lightning intact. It was draining her, but it was the only thing she could think of.

He was doubled over, fingers digging into his scalp, paralyzed, the lightning dancing over his skin.

Jaden's breath came in uneven gasps, ragged with anger, effort, and emotion. "Damn you," she whispered.

Her hand clenched into a fist, and the lightning vanished.

Immediately, she felt him gather his waning strength in the Force, calling his weapon to hand. She beat him to it. There was a brief struggle as the lightsaber hovered in the air, wavering, then it flew to Jaden's hand.

She flicked the switch. The red blade hummed in her fist as she slowly got to her feet, approaching him.

He had fallen to his knees, too weakened to remain standing. He glared up at her with frustrated anger, rage, hatred… more emotions too diverse and strong to be named.

No one knew what might have happened next, had Kyle not arrived. He ran through the door, then stopped short a few paces away, taking the whole scene in. Surprise registered on his face. "Jaden! What are you—"

Then the lightning hit.

Jaden had used Force lightning on Rosh, twice. But she'd never had it used on her. Pain enveloped her, tearing along her nerves, ravaging her mind. Dimly, she heard someone cry out. After a moment, as her throat became raw, she realized it was her own voice she heard.

Her knees hit the floor. Her hands wound into her hair, pulling, pushing, trying unsuccessfully to eradicate the pain. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her breath came in harried pants.

Someone spoke, she realized after a moment. A woman's voice, soft and hateful and teasing.

And then the pain was gone.

Jaden lay sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath like a beached firaxan shark. Slowly, the room swam back into focus. A woman leaned over her, a mocking little smile on her face.

"…sorry, little Jedi. But your petty friendship cannot compare to the power of the dark side!"

Dark hair. Tattooed face. Skanky clothing.

"Tavion," Jaden heard Kyle say with disgust.

Jaden's fingers twitched. Where was her lightsaber?

"Kyle," the dark Witch said, sounding maniacally cheerful. "How good to see you again!"

Slowly, pain screaming down every nerve, Jaden rolled onto her stomach, then managed to haul herself up onto her elbows…then hands and knees. Tavion was still talking, her back to Jaden. Perhaps she thought the young apprentice no threat, subdued and unarmed.

Kyle's eyes flicked to his apprentice, then back up to Tavion. He understood what Jaden was trying to do and was ready to do his part. He straightened, and said something that distracted the Witch.

Jaden coiled her strength under her, preparing for a leap. If she could just find her lightsaber… She was terrified to reach out to the Force again.

She exploded from her crouch. Every muscle screamed in agony at the rude treatment, but she gritted her teeth against the pain.

Someone bulled into her side, knocking her away from the Witch. Both hit the floor and rolled apart. Rosh was panting, but his eyes gleamed in the half-light. Neither apprentice was armed. Neither was able to use the Force at the moment. Both were exhausted and wounded. But both were completely willing to continue the fight.

"No, no, you stay _down_!"

Tavion's hand was outstretched, her expression one of mild irritation. And then lightning spat from her fingers again.

The next thing Jaden knew, the ceiling was falling in. She yelped and rolled aside as a heavy stone hit the spot where she'd lain, doing her best to ignore her aching limbs.

Another rock was falling. Jaden skittered aside, barely avoiding the rock itself as shards of stone flew everywhere.

And then it stopped.

There was still the ominous rumble from above, but no further rocks fell. Jaden saw Kyle, crouched, hands raised, obviously concentrating hard to keep the ceiling from coming down on them, whole hog.

She crawled over to him, snatching the lightsaber from his belt. For one insane moment, she was engulfed in the sudden urge to reverse the blade and plunge it into her Master's chest.

Horrified, she almost dropped the weapon, but then she recovered. _I'll worry about it later,_ she promised herself shakily. _Later._

The floor was weakened already. It was the work of a moment to break through it into the lower level and escape. And from there, it was not difficult to get back to the ship.


	2. Dark Thoughts, Dark Scars

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**Thanks to all four reviewers! Gamorrean princess--double thanks for beta-ing again. Tinuviel Undomiel, Darkness1, shanesnest, thanks for dropping by! Hope you guys like this next chapter...no worries, it'll get better...

**EDIT:** Damn editor ate my triple asterisks!

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**CHAPTER TWO: DARK THOUGHTS, DARK SCARS**

The gardens of Yavin had always been a source of peace for Jaden.

Born and raised on the lower levels of the city world of Coruscant, the sight of so many living plants was truly amazing to her. In the past, after missions and as soon as she'd checked out of the medbay, she had always gone to the gardens.

That was where she went after Vjun.

There was a little grotto, just beyond a pool of clear water, where two benches sat, facing one another. Vines and flowers of all sorts trailed invitingly around the niche. A little tree stood at the opening.

As soon as the medbay technician had pronounced her physically well, she had checked herself out of there and made her way into the gardens.

She sat on one of the benches, pulling one knee up to her chest. The movement awoke fresh aches and pains in her abused body, but she ignored them, staring out across the heavy blanket of green.

It should have been raining. That would have been appropriate. Jaden sighed. Sometimes, the weather had no sense of dramatic narration.

The air was heavy with the moisture of the latest rain, though, and droplets still lingered on the flowers and leaves of the plants. Twilight reigned, and many of the flowers were closed.

Without meaning to, she brushed gentle fingers across her latest scar. She'd healed it herself, in the middle of battle. It was hardly surprising that it should scar. She supposed she ought to be grateful it had healed correctly at all.

She had other scars, after all. Mostly acquired after arriving at the Academy. The three parallel markings on her left leg, where a Rancor had attempted to maul her. A thin line across her midriff where some joker had tried to slice her with a knife. A thicker, lumpier line where a Reborn's saberstaff had cut down across her shoulder. Countless tiny nicks and round pale marks from blasters and stunsticks.

She had other scars. Why did this one matter any more than any of the others?

Her hand dropped to her side. Where her lightsaber no longer hung from her belt. She sighed. She had been mildly surprised—mildly because she'd used up her store of shock for the day—that the Masters hadn't been more irritated over the loss of her weapon. After all, in the training, they'd gone on and on about how a Jedi's weapon was an extension of the Jedi herself…

She bowed her head, grimacing. She'd _liked_ the damn thing!

With a sigh, she blanked her mind in preparation for meditation. Or tried to. Meditation had never been her strong suit, and she was unable to push all thought and emotion from her mind…especially not now…

She drew up her other leg, resting her forehead on her knees. She was so tired…but she didn't want to fall asleep. She knew what she would see behind her eyes. And she didn't need to see it, over and over again, didn't need to relive the shameful satisfaction at making him hurt.

"Are you all right?"

Jaden squeaked, caught completely off-guard. She jerked sideways, almost falling off her bench. She flailed out with one hand, catching herself on the wall, steadying herself. She took a few deep breaths. After a moment, she looked up.

"I'm fine," she mumbled, in direct contradiction to the evidence.

Kyle tipped his head to the side, a skeptical expression on his face. But he didn't say anything. He took a seat on the other bench, resting his elbows on his thighs. Watching her.

She settled herself back onto the bench, though she wanted more than anything else to run, run like hell. She didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to remember it. Anger and frustration rose in her chest, blocking her throat painfully.

"A little jumpy?"

Jaden shot him a baleful glare. "I was thinking," she said lamely.

Kyle shifted, watching her, a little uncomfortable. "Skywalker wants you promoted to Knight."

She quirked an eyebrow. "This is a joke, right? There's no way—Force, I was surprised I wasn't expelled from the Order right then and there!" _Face it, Korr. You wanted to be expelled. You wanted to be free to take revenge…_

He shook his head. "Kid, when you got here, you had a lightsaber and a lot of potential. Now, you…you're a Jedi. A damn good one, too." He pinned her with a concerned look. "We've all been where you are now, Jaden."

_Don't patronize me!_

She didn't say anything, only shook her head.

She heard a quiet sigh. "Just…just don't let it take you over. Don't do anything you'll regret later, okay?"

_Too late._ She nodded wordlessly, not looking at him.

A long, awkward, wordless pause stretched between them. She heard the rustle of cloth and the creak of leather as he shifted position uncomfortably. "Have you thought about a new 'saber?" he asked finally.

She looked up. "Not really," she replied, wondering what he was getting at. "I mean, I only lost mine a few hours ago."

A wince. Slight, and well-masked, but a wince. She took a small amount of pleasure in forcing a reaction from her Master.

"Well, it's something you ought to think about. We always have plenty of missions for a Knight of the Order. And it'd look a little silly for a Knight to be running around without a lightsaber."

She stared at her hands. A Knight?

"You could make a pair of 'sabers," Kyle went on, oblivious to her internal dialogue. "Or a saberstaff…or just a lightsaber." He shrugged. "That's what most Jedi seem to prefer."

"I want a staff," Jaden heard herself say. She blinked.

Of course, she'd fought saberstaff wielders. She knew they went down just like anyone else against a competent opponent. But there was something about the weapon that she…liked. Of course, her old lightsaber had worked well enough…but it was gone now. A saberstaff would work just as well…if not better.

Kyle seemed a little nonplused by her sudden decision, but he nodded. "Okay. It's been a while since anyone made a 'staff, but I bet Master Vao could help you out."

Master Trian Vao was a Twi'lek, and very much into weaponry. Any sort, any time-period. Master Vao and Apprentice Korr had sparred together many times, sharing an enjoyment of the sport.

Jaden nodded. "Yes."

Another awkward silence. Kyle made as if to get to his feet, then stopped. "Jaden…"

She looked up, knowing her face would be perfectly blank. "Yes?"

He hesitated. "Be careful," he said finally. And left.

* * *

"We received word from a freighter captain that there are members of the cult at the spaceport on Tanaab," Master Skywalker said. 

He stood, as usual, before the high windows of his main meditation chamber. Jaden stood on the steps, face smooth and blank, a new lightstaff clipped to her belt. Kyle watched her from the corner, a slightly worried expression on his face. Contrary to the expression on her face, he could vaguely sense a whole maelstrom of emotion, just under the surface.

"Head over there and find out what they are doing there," Skywalker continued. He, too, watched the young Knight.

She nodded. "I understand."

* * *

The spaceport on Tanaab resounded to the harsh staticky echo of lightsaber on lightsaber. Jaden's boot caught a dark Jedi in the stomach, sending him staggering back and breaking the 'saberlock. She whirled, a neatly-timed backhand cut from her orange saberstaff severing his neck. 

It also resounded to the extremely unsubtle sounds of a mutated Rancor crashing along the hallway. Jaden heard it—how could she not?—and bull-rushed the other cultist, sending him flying.

Then she ran. She'd seen what the huge thing could do to dark Jedi, to packing crates, to starships, merely by blundering about! And she, through some unlucky twist of fate, was its primary target.

She jumped, catching the edge of a packing crate with hands that were already bruised and bleeding from earlier mistreatment. She pulled herself up and kept running, jumping from crate to crate and finally to a walkway above. There was a door. It was locked.

Jaden swore. _Figures…every time I'm in a hurry…_

She cut the lock out of the door with a few quick slices, her lightstaff protesting the unorthodox use, and cast the door aside. _Thank the Force! A control room!_

She could see through the transparisteel panel, the impossibly huge creature drawing closer, pausing only to make a short snack of the cultists she'd shoved aside. There was a conveyer belt…and a crate…

Jaden glanced over the controls. She smiled. It wasn't a particularly pleasant expression.

* * *

"We've received word from the Chandrilans that some cultists have broken into an ancient tomb that is supposedly the burial site of a Jedi Knight. Hurry there and stop them from siphoning Force power." 

Jaden nodded. "I get it. When do I leave?"

* * *

Chandrila, Jaden mused, must once have been a truly beautiful place. Almost surreal in its serenity. But now, infested with dark Jedi, rotten and crumbling, it was a poor imitation of whatever it might have been once. 

Her orange lightstaff contrasted sickeningly with the predominantly blue lighting of the twilight tomb.

A savage left-handed slash forced a cultist to stagger back, clutching at his arm. He stumbled back one step too far, and, with a startled yelp, fell into the dark chasm in which the tomb was located.

"So long," Jaden muttered, stepping forward to the tomb's entrance. The aura, the sense of pure holiness inundated the place, made it hard for Jaden to breathe.

It reproached her silently.

She hesitated on the threshold. She didn't want to go any further, didn't want the oppressive feeling of _light_ weighing down on her. She didn't want the light, didn't want it to burn away the shadows that surrounded her now.

Her orders were to make sure that the cultists didn't take the Force power from the tomb. They hadn't done so yet—the crawling of her skin was testament enough to that. She took a step back and a deep breath.

"Hey! Your mom was a bantha!" she yelled. Her voice echoed impressively off the high pale stone walls of the tomb.

She waited a moment for cultists to emerge from the woodwork. Then she shrugged and ignited one blade of her lightstaff. The place was a structural nightmare already. It wouldn't take much to ensure that no one set foot in the tomb ever again…

When it was done, she turned and walked away, feeling her eyes sting with unaccustomed tears.

* * *

Kyle folded his arms across his chest. "Since Rosh never completed his mission at Byss, we still need to determine if Tavion managed to siphon Force energy from the remains of the planet." 

His one-time apprentice quirked an eyebrow. "You're kidding. Surely the mere fact that that was where he was caught tells us they managed to get the Force stuff…"

"The Emperor spent a lot of his time there, so it would be a huge source of power," Master Skywalker said quietly. "If it has been taken, we will have an idea of just how powerful Tavion is."

Jaden sighed and ducked her head, hiding her expression.

"I'll be going with you on this one," Kyle said in what he hoped was a firm, unequivocal voice. "This is where Rosh vanished, and we're not sure exactly what to expect."

For a moment, he caught her glance. It was so…full of malice and anger…so… dark…that it took his breath away. Then the mask fell back over her face. She nodded.

"Okay. I understand."

* * *

He was watching her carefully on this one, Jaden knew. And, so close, it was hard for her to disguise the change effectively. So she took refuge in silence, removing herself from the Force as far as she was able and speaking as little as she could get away with. 

She wasn't sure how much she'd been able to fool him. When the time came for her to deal with the TIEs...

The Force terrified her. She hadn't so much as _thought_ about touching it since the disaster on Vjun. And she was a terrible shot without it. It had taken her an inordinate time to shoot down the approaching TIEs, and by the time they were neutralized her hands were shaking.

She wasn't sure how much he'd noticed, how much he'd put together. Hell, she wasn't completely sure what was happening to her herself.

* * *

"Information has surfaced about a large stockpile of old weapons hidden in the wastes of Ord Mantell," Master Skywalker said, glancing at a datapad in his hand. "Destroy the stockpiles so they don't fall into the wrong hands. Records from the time of the Rebellion indicate that there should be seven caches hidden in the ruined city." 

Jaden nodded. She didn't meet his gaze, instead looking down at her hands, clenched in her lap. Kyle was bad enough to dodge without having to worry about Master Skywalker as well. "I can handle that."

She could feel his eyes on her, concerned. "Kyle is off on another mission, or I would ask him to accompany you."

"I can do this alone, just fine," she reiterated. "Don't worry."

She felt his eyes on her still as she left the room.

* * *

Sweat ran down her forehead. She was running, flat out. Seven caches were successfully neutralized. One extremely irritating and dangerous bounty hunter was not. 

She leapt up, landing solidly on the wing of her Z-95 Headhunter, saberstaff up before her, ready to deflect anything thrown at her.

Boba Fett rained down a veritable hail of red darts at her. Her movements were neat and graceful, conservative of motion, but getting the job done. Every single bolt hit her staff and ricocheted off back towards him.

With a roar, he ignited the rocket pack and flew away, avoiding her defensive attack. Her eyes narrowed.

Both attack and defense sped up. Jaden pivoted slowly, trying to hit him. The bounty hunter was able to dodge each and every hit, though. Her lips peeled back in a snarl unconsciously.

_Stay still, dammit!_

She freed one hand from her furious defense, almost without thinking. _Stop moving!_

The Force flew through her, easy and light as a feather, a rush of power as intoxicating as strong liquor. Her free hand clenched into a fist…

* * *

"So now I guess we have an enemy in common, heh," Kyle chuckled. At least most of her anger seemed to have blown over now. 

Jaden smiled. "I guess we do, at that." Boba Fett had gotten away, but she'd scared him bad enough to let her go without bothering her more.

"How are you feeling?" he asked cautiously.

She shrugged. "Fine. I got a full night's sleep last night, for a change. The medtech gave me a clean bill of health last night after Ord Mantell. I'm…fine," she lied. Her stomach was churning uneasily, and she felt supremely uncomfortable, just walking around the Academy. It was strange, almost as though the place itself was repudiating her.

He noted the pause. "Well, that's good. Skywalker's planning the assault on Korriban."

Jaden spun. "Really? When?"

"Soon. But you and I aren't going to Korriban…not at first, anyway. We're making a short detour to Taspir III."

She frowned. "The moon? Why? I don't get it."

"We've received a message from Rosh."


	3. Dark Choices, Dark Battles

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Whew! Three chapters in, one more to go. Are you all still with me? Big thankyou goes out to gamorrean princess (yet again). You're a lifesaver, babe, and I wouldn't know what to do without you. More thanks go out to all my reviewers: Tinuvial, Yggi, ether-fanfic, Darkness1, Dark Lord Daishi, Blackheart Syaoran, and Killyouguy. Hope this chapter lives up to expectations.

PS the formatting issue with the last chapter is either fixed or soon-to-be-fixed. It ate my triple asterisks :(

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**CHAPTER THREE: DARK CHOICES, DARK BATTLES**

"_Hello there,_

_the angel from my nightmare_

_the shadow in the background of a morgue_

_the unsuspecting victim_

_of darkness in the valley…"_

-Blink 182

Jaden didn't do sneaky real well. She knew that, had known it most of her life. It had never particularly bothered her before. But now, with Reborn crawling all over the place, Reborn and Stormtroopers and Force knew what else, she found herself wishing for just a fraction of the stealth that seemed to come so naturally to Kyle and Rosh.

Of course, that was what part of her mind was wishing. The rest of her mind was completely occupied with the fighting. Since Vjun, she had found herself utterly unable to sink into the half-trance in which she usually fought. The state where everything slowed down and fell perfectly into place. It had shattered, like a soap bubble. She knew she wasn't fighting as well anymore, she was slower, sloppier…

She shook her head angrily, pulling her mind back to the task at hand and neatly beheading a Cultist with a broad backhand swipe. He screamed most satisfactorily as her lightstaff bit into his neck…at least until the bright blade severed his throat entirely.

He fell to the ground, and she felt his presence join with the Force. She spun to meet her next opponent, blocking his first attempt at an attack and swiftly turning the parry into a lunging riposte.

_Pathetic! They call _these_ dark Jedi?_ She swatted aside a Reborn's poor attempt at a deflection and ran him through with somewhat unnecessary force. She heard someone give a triumphant yell and realized it was herself. A shot embedded itself in the wall above her head, and she whirled to meet the next threat.

A bunch of Stormtroopers. She had the crazy urge to laugh. Her saberstaff moved in her hands, almost on its own, deflecting each shot. She ran forward, deflecting fourth, fifth, and sixth shots into the dark eyeslits in those pristine white helmets. She jumped, soaring easily through the air on the wings of the Force. She hit the first Trooper heavily, both feet planted on his shoulders.

He went down like a stone, and when she shoved her lightstaff into his midriff and yanked it to the side, twitched and was down for good.

She made short work of his five companions and walked on. It was really almost amusing, how people judged her on her diminutive stature and gender, on her delicate face and blond hair. It made things altogetherly too easy, sometimes.

How long had she been fighting her way through this damn factory? She didn't know. It seemed like forever…it was a blur of anger and blood and desperation. It couldn't have been that long, she reasoned. Taspir simply wasn't that big.

Kyle was somewhere else, trying to work his way back to her. Jaden was grateful for that at least. She was sure he wouldn't have approved of her methods, nor of her replies to the Twi'lek's insults and jibes.

Alora was a pest, nothing more, she told herself. In time, the Twi'lek would fall as easily as her minions. Jaden hoped it was her hand on the weapon that ended it.

She was impatient. A thermal detonator took care of another gaggle of Stormtroopers and by the time she met another pair of Reborn, she was fed up with the endless fighting. _Lightsabers may be flashy, but it's the other guy you want to watch out for,_ she reminded herself, leaping away from a lightning attack.

The 'saberless Reborn were the toughest. And this one was particularly tough. Quick and agile, with a good understanding of how to fight Jedi, he danced away from all her attacks, knocking her aside, throwing lightning at her.

Finally, she connected with a lucky kick, booting him solidly in the stomach. He reeled back, the wind knocked out of him. It was but a moment, but a moment was enough for Jaden. A savage thrust, and her orange blade slid between his ribs to ruin his heart.

Of course, that meant she'd been stationary for a moment as well. Pain shivered along her nerves, and she smelled the stench of burning meat. The lightsaber-wielder had slashed her across the back and side. Her tunic was smoldering and her side was on fire with pain. She staggered back, getting her own weapon up just in time to avoid being skewered.

Boiling fury seemed to have replaced her blood in her veins. She got her feet solidly under herself and charged him with a yell, swinging her lightstaff. She batted his weapon aside and brought the other end up. It bit deeply into his side, and it was his turn to stagger back.

She followed. With a low kick, she took him down at the knees. He fell, eyes wide and terrified over the dark halfmask. She spun the blade in her hands, reversing it deftly.

"Mercy!" he cried hoarsely.

She drove the blade into his forehead.

As she felt his spirit leave his body, she stepped back. Every breath set her side on fire, and every movement drove white-hot daggers of pain down her spine. Her tunic was ruined, a bloody mess of shredded and scorched material. She shrugged it off, twisting painfully, trying to get a look at what had been done to her back.

It was very hard to heal what you can't see, but Jaden managed it. Her camisole was spattered and soaked in blood, but more or less intact. But it left her shoulders and arms bare, and while she knew this was hardly the time to be thinking of delicate sensibilities, she didn't particularly want to go prancing around in front of the Reborn and dark Jedi wearing a torn undershirt.

The dead Reborn's overtunic was undamaged, though. It was the awkward work of a moment to get it off him. It was made of rough, cheap fabric. Jaden's lips curled in something that faintly resembled a smile. _Looks like Tavion has the same trouble getting credits as the rest of us._

She pulled it on. It was too big, but it covered her well enough and it wasn't soaked in blood. She struggled with the fastenings and managed to get at least part of it done up before the next wave of Stormtroopers found her.

* * *

"You don't look much like a prisoner, Rosh." 

Her voice was almost unrecognizable. Rosh spun around, expressions chasing themselves across his face. For a moment, stark terror. Then relief and recognition. Then consternation, swiftly followed by worry.

"Jaden!"

She took a step forward, the movement unmistakably threatening. "Was this your idea or did Tavion dream it up?" she snarled. It was a trap. How could it ever have been anything else? There he stood, hale and healthy, unbound, unfettered. Kyle had misjudged the situation, that was all it could be.

"No wait—you don't understand." He took a step back. "I—I was wrong. Please, take me back the Academy. I need help."

There was a snap-hiss as the saberstaff in her hand ignited. One bright orange blade slid out. She could see the reflection in his wide eyes.

"Stay back!" He raised a hand, and she felt him pull on the Force. Several crates flew through the air, settling between Jaden and Rosh, blocking her path to him.

She frowned and knocked them aside.

Rosh had slid into a defensive position, and now there was a lightsaber in his hand, too. "Jaden, please! You're frightening me." He spoke slowly and carefully, his voice low, as though to a wild animal.

"You're a liar and a traitor and you don't deserve to live," she said, voice leaden.

"You have to believe me, Jay," he pleaded with her. "We—we're friends, right?"

In a leap, she covered the distance between them, snatching him by the front of his tunic. Rage pounded in her temples. He _dared_—! "Don't. Call. Me. That." Her voice was low and deadly and alive with anger.

His eyes were very wide, but he didn't struggle. "Listen to yourself," he said desperately. "You're angry—"

"No kidding." She hit him, hard, with the fist that still held her lightstaff. It felt good. She let go of his tunic and hit him again, harder.

He staggered back. Damn it all, why wouldn't he fight her? The lightsaber was still in his hand, unlit. There was an angry red mark on the side of his face. Jaden knew from experience that it would be a very nasty bruise in a few hours.

_He won't be alive in a few hours._

"Finish him, Jedi!" a voice crowed from above.

It took a moment or two for the words to penetrate Jaden's angry mind. She didn't even look to see who'd spoken. She knew.

"Stay out of this, table-dancer," she growled. She looked down at the lit weapon in her hand, then back up at Rosh.

"Jay, don't—"

In an instant, the orange blade was hovering dangerously close to his jaw. "Didn't you hear me?" she asked softly. Her black eyes were anything but soft. "Don't call me that. Don't _ever_ call me that again."

He froze.

_Kill him,_ the darkness whispered in her mind, sleepy and seductive and powerful. _Kill him now. Do it for yourself, do something for yourself for once._

Her hand tightened around her saberstaff.

_It will be so easy…_

_Watch his blood spill out onto the floor, watch his eyes fix in death, watch his face pale and know the fierce satisfaction only true power can bring…_

_Kill him._

She drew her hand back, bringing her breathing back under control, shifting her stance to the most advantageous for a quick killing strike. She closed her eyes. The orange blade hummed through the air.

Her eyes flew open again in shock as she heard the unmistakable staticky crackle of lightsaber on lightsaber.

Rosh had taken a step back. He'd ignited the weapon in his hand, and was now holding her off with it. The blade was green. She knew it.

"That's mine," she whispered, shocked. Then her eyes narrowed, and she broke the 'saberlock. He stumbled forward, surprised, but recovered swiftly, spinning to meet her again.

Her advance was slow, almost lazy. Rosh was no warrior. However much he might have improved under Tavion's tutelage, she could still beat him. She knew it like she knew her name—a fact, immutable and unchanging. Of course, that didn't mean he was helpless.

However hopeless Rosh might have been with more concrete weaponry, he had always been the stronger in the Force. The trick would be to keep him too distracted to use the Force against her, and finish the fight off swiftly before he realized what she was doing.

A sneer twisted her lips. He refused to strike at her, keeping himself completely on the defensive, expression stubborn. "Jaden—no! Let go of your anger—"

_There! An opening!_

Rosh's sloppy defense had left her a narrow opening. He realized it a second after she did and tried to redirect, but it was too late. Jaden drove her 'saber blade up to the hilt in his side. Half an inch of bright orange blade protruded from the other side of his torso. His eyes went wide and shock twisted his face.

"Don't you ever listen to me?" she muttered. "Talk or fight. Don't try to do both." She stepped back, letting him fall to the floor, looking down at him. "You yourself said how powerful the dark side was," she reminded him mockingly.

He looked up at her, eyes already dark with pain and impending death. "I was wrong," he whispered, looking up at her.

She shook her head scornfully. "No. You were weak." She turned away from her dying friend, once and forever.

Mocking applause resounded from above, where the Twi'lek perched, watching the proceedings with great interest and amusement. "Very well done. You are one of us, now. And a worthy addition—"

"No." Jaden's voice was sharp and cold. "I'm one of me."

Alora cocked her head to the side. "Oh?"

"You're pathetic and you disgust me," Jaden said, enunciating carefully as though speaking to a senile old grandparent. "Was there some part of that you didn't understand?"

The Twi'lek's eyes went wide, and her mouth dropped open.

"You're weak and useless. You're hardly even worth killing," Jaden taunted her. "Tavion must have been desperate to take you on as an apprentice. Those two hulking idiots I killed on Vjun were tough. You're nothing but a pushover."

With a scream of rage, the dark Jedi launched herself at Jaden, two lightsabers in her hands. She ignited them as she leapt, bright red and thirsty for the fallen Jedi's blood.

Jaden caught both weapons on the blades of her staff and kicked the Twi'lek in the stomach, driving her backwards a few steps. She followed up her advantage, locking her blade with Alora's, forcing the Twi'lek into a 'saberlock. Slowly, slowly, the orange blade forced the red back, until they were nearly touching the dark Jedi's skin.

Alora's eyes widened, then narrowed. A wave of the Force billowed out, knocking Jaden back several feet. But the human had been expecting something like that and kept her balance with little difficulty, charging back into the fight.

She hooked Alora's ankle with her foot and yanked, throwing her meager weight at the Twi'lek. With a yell, they went over. Jaden managed to stay on top, whipping her blade around to her opponent's throat. Red fingers were wrapped around her wrists, the knuckles pale and her teeth gritted with the effort of keeping the orange blade from her throat.

Jaden swore. Stalemate. They were more or less equal as far as strength went. Now for tricks. She braced herself mentally, drew her head back, and smashed her forehead into Alora's face. She felt pain blur her vision and something crack beneath her…

It bought her a moment. But a moment was enough.

She felt the Twi'lek's tarnished soul flee her body as she got to her feet, saw the body spasm and go limp. Satisfaction filled her.

_Well done,_ the darkness murmured, sated for the moment.

Jaden paused.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

And then she was gone.

* * *

Kyle was out of breath. Something was terribly wrong. "Jaden!" he tried to yell, though it came out as a gasp. He stumbled over the threshold, looking around. 

Someone answered weakly, but it wasn't Jaden. Kyle turned and felt his jaw sag. Rosh lay on the floor, one hand pressed to his side, white as paper. Surprisingly little blood showed on his skin and clothing, but Kyle's experienced eye noted the twin wounds in his sides. Cauterized.

"Rosh! What the hell—"

He broke off. There was another body. He'd never met Tavion's apprentice personally, but he recognized her when he saw her. She was sprawled in the boneless posture only cats and corpses can achieve. There was a gaping slash across her throat, her nose was very broken indeed, and her eyes stared sightlessly up at the dark ceiling.

"Kyle…I'm sorry. Jaden…has turned," Rosh said. Sweat beaded on his pale forehead, every word obviously costing him dearly. "You've…lost both your apprentices." His blue eyes were dark with pain and fear and sorrow. He knew he was dying, knew it with the resigned certainty of one who'd seen death wounds before.

Kyle knelt beside him. How old was Rosh? Eighteen? Nineteen? And dying. Sometimes, the universe just wasn't fair. "No. That's not true. You're a Jedi, Rosh. A true Jedi."

The boy's eyelids flickered, and a wan smile made its way onto his face. "Heh. Thanks. Means…a lot." He took in another breath, and Kyle could hear the blood filling his lungs. "Tried…I tried…" He coughed suddenly, a horrible gurgling, rattling noise. "I tried to…stop her…wasn't strong enough."

"I know," Kyle said softly. _Damn it!_

"Sorry," Rosh said again, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, and died.

And Kyle knew he'd spoken the truth when he'd said Rosh was a Jedi. Within moments, there was nothing left of Rosh Penin but his memory. His apprentice had become one with the Force, in the way that only a true Jedi can.

He got slowly to his feet, feeling immeasurably old. If only he'd stayed with her, if only he'd noticed the change sooner, if only he'd said something, if only he'd been able to get her to talk…if only if only if only.

And where was she now?

He knew.

_It's time to end this._


	4. Dark Hearts, Dark Futures

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Last chapter, folks! Bugger of an ending, I know, but I didn't have that much to work with. There was going to be a fifth chapter, but it turned into a whole 'nother story. So, this is it. Damn, I was hoping this one would tide me through 'til KotOR2 comes out for PC. Apparently, I overestimated the time it takes to get a story up. Heh. Anyway, thanks to all my reviewers for the last chapter--Dark Lord Daishi, Tinuviel Undomiel, Blackheart Syaoran, shanesnest, ether-fanfic, gamorrean princess, Yggi, Ermine AKA Tree, and Darkness1. Reviews are the meat and bread of a fanfic writer, but you knew that already, didn't you?

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: DARK HEARTS, DARK FUTURES**

Jaden Korr arrived as the battle was in full swing, and tripled the havoc. She moved through the catacombs, cutting a wide swath through Reborn and Jedi alike. Some of the Reborn she spared in return for an oath of fealty, and by the time she made it out into the weak, chilly sunlight of the Valley of the Dark Lords, she had a small entourage and a trail of dead bodies behind her.

She stood on top of one of the highest tomb, weapon in hand, looking down on the battle below. Her opponent lay dead, and she booted the body off the roof, leaning over to watch it fall.

The sounds of battle echoed around the great bowl of the Valley, the stuttering chatter of the Imperials' E-11s, the staticky clatter of lightsaber on lightsaber, the cries of pain and the harsh sound of Force lightning resounding around the Valley until it was all so much meaningless background noise.

Jaden stared down into the battle raging below her, fascinated. Every now and again, a lightsaber would flicker out, and she would feel a soul become one with the Force. She had never stopped to consider it before, how sweet death could taste.

She tore her attention away from the battle and back to her final objective. The Tomb of Ragnos. There was one more person who stood between her and her goal.

Darkness enveloped Jaden as she made her way deeper into the Sith Lord's Tomb, moving lightly on her toes. Her eyes were alert for any movement within the shadows that surrounded her. She felt oddly comfortable here, as she hadn't lately at the Academy. The darkness around her called out an answering echo from within.

Three more dead lay in her wake, and now she stood before the doors. She stretched out a hand, yanking the Force savagely to her will. The high doors gave a groan of protest—someone had tried to seal them off. Jaden frowned, and pulled harder.

They capitulated to her power and creaked dustily open. Jaden paused. She couldn't help but feel that when she stepped through that door, it would become irrevocable. Standing there, on the threshold, she could imagine that she could still turn away, walk out of the Tomb…and everything would go back to how it was before. But stepping through that dark archway, into the heart of blackness…

She set her jaw, stubborn to the last, and took one step forward into darkness. And another, and another…until…

"Ah, it's Kyle's good apprentice," Tavion said, turning, the staff in hand. A mocking little smile was on her full lips, her whole stance challenging. But as her gaze met Jaden's, and she took in the younger woman's appearance—her bloodied and disheveled clothing, the set expression on her face, her eyes, like two black holes into a great void. "Or is it?"

"Your words mean less than nothing," Jaden said tonelessly, saberstaff in hand. The orange blades seemed a little darker, a little sooty, perhaps. Her eyes alit upon the staff in Tavion's hand, and avarice glittered in their empty depths. "Draw your weapon and die with what honor you have left to you," she said.

Orange blade met red. Jaden threw Tavion back, a sullen flame of anger burning in her chest. She nursed the rage and hatred, the sorrow and desperation and greed, strength flowing through her limbs.

_Through passion I gain power,_ the darkness within whispered approvingly.

Tavion surged forward, a sudden flurry of blows battering at Jaden's defenses. The fallen Jedi fended them off with only slight difficulty and aimed a punishing blow to the other human's ribs.

The Sith Witch danced backwards, and Jaden heard her swear under her breath. A cruel smile curved Jaden's lips as she advanced. Tavion snarled and threw away her lightsaber, grasping the staff in both hands. Jaden noted that she held the weapon awkwardly, as though unused to it.

Her smile widened, ever so slightly. A step forward, pivoting neatly on her left foot, spinning the saberstaff flamboyantly as she spun through the movements of the kata, her movements speeding as she did so, the Force running through her in a torrent. She beat Tavion back again and again, and the Witch only barely managed to fend her off.

Then a wave of the Force hit her, knocking her back. Tavion grasped the staff in both hands and yelled something in a language Jaden didn't recognize. She brought the butt of the staff down on the stone floor, hard.

The entire tomb shook. Jaden was knocked clean onto her rear, but rolled smoothly backwards to land solidly on her feet, just in time to leap away from another attack.

Now it was Jaden on the defensive, as Tavion pressed her luck, teeth bared in a mad grimace. Orange blade clashed against dull metal, again and again as the Witch drove the fallen Jedi the length of the Tomb.

Jaden lashed out, her boot catching Tavion in the stomach, sending her staggering back. She dropped her lightstaff, raising both hands, fingers spread, and called on the Force.

_Yes!_

Red lightning spat from her fingertips, arcing from Jaden to Tavion in a deadly stream of power.

Tavion screamed, falling back.

Again, lightning flew from Jaden's hands, and the Witch fell to the ground, writhing in agony, face twisted, mouth open in a soundless scream of pain.

"This is the pain you have given me," Jaden said quietly. Tonelessly. She called her saberstaff to her hand, keeping her free hand up as she approached, ready to retaliate with another blast of lightning.

Tavion's ragged gasps echoed about the chamber. She glared up at the approaching fallen Jedi with hatred and helpless anger. "I…I will…not cower…as I did before…Katarn," she said, mouth working with rage and fear. "I…will…not." And she spat at Jaden.

"I can respect that," Jaden said. Her free hand clenched into a fist.

The Witch was gasping for breath again, clawing at her throat, the staff lying forgotten at her side. Her legs kicked weakly, her eyes bulging. One final convulsion, and she was still.

Jaden stood there for a long moment, staring down at her. There was no sense of triumph, no rush of unholy pleasure at her victory. There was nothing but an aching emptiness inside her.

The staff was lying on the floor, the torchlight playing across the dull dark metal. Jaden knew well how powerful it was, having been on the business end of that power more than once. The darkness stored within would serve her well, she knew. Well and faithfully, which was more than you could ever say for people.

She crouched, reaching out to pick it up.

"Jaden—no!"

She whirled to her feet, saberstaff out and lit in an instant, cursing herself for not paying enough attention to the Force presence that had been approaching.

Kyle stood there, panting slightly, face set. "You don't want to do that, Jaden," he told her.

"No?" she asked. Her breath was coming fast and short, more from surprise than from the grueling battles she had survived.

"It's not too late," he said quietly, staring intently into her eyes. "This can end now…right here. Just…just come back with me and everything will be all right. I promise."

"No. Nothing will ever be all right again," Jaden countered. "Can you bring Rosh back to life? I know I killed him…I felt him become one with the Force." Her face twisted slightly in disgust. "Death…tastes sweet." She shook her head, pale hair falling over her shoulder. "No, Kyle. I can't." She spun her lightstaff between her fingers, the orange blade humming.

"Jaden…please…"

She shook her head. "Out of my way," she snapped. "Or you're a dead man."

He slid reluctantly into a battle stance, weapon raised in a defensive pose. "Don't do this. This isn't you, Jaden."

"Maybe this is more _me_ than I've ever been in my life," Jaden said, meeting his eyes. Hers were dark and horribly empty, void of any human emotion, the iris and pupil the exact same shade of black. The color of the void between the stars.

Kyle swallowed. This was a situation he'd never been able to imagine. Facing off against his own apprentice—against _Jaden_, for the love of the Force!—over a damn staff. He wasn't sure if he could kill her. He still wondered if it was truly necessary, if he could have avoided this, noticed the change earlier, or even just done something more when he did notice. Rosh might still be alive, and Jaden…

He ducked under her first attack, replying with a half-hearted thrust. She laughed in his face, the sound jarring horribly with her empty eyes, and spun away. Jaden was a fighter, above all. This was her element. Gore painted her long hair and clothing, the blood of her foes, like some bizarre tribute to those she had killed.

He fended off the orange blade once, twice, thrice, answering with a vigorous riposte that she deflected easily. Jaden had always fought like she lived. Passionately, and with a determination—no, an expectation—that she would win. He had once observed that Jaden walked like she was perfectly ready to go straight through a plascrete wall without a pause.

Now, every strike was calculated, purposeful. Every movement had been stripped to the bare essentials so there was not a wasted gesture or turn, every attack designed to deliver the most damage in the most inconvenient possible way. It was like fighting a droid, but a droid who'd fought you before, and knew all your tricks, because you'd taught them to her yourself. A droid that learned swiftly, even in the middle of a battle, and knew how to improvise and use her surroundings to her advantage.

She cut in high, an attack that would have parted his head from his shoulders, had it connected. She was really, genuinely, trying to kill him. His heart sank a little lower as he dropped into a crouch to avoid the blow. That surprised her. Inspiration struck, and Kyle exploded out of his crouch, hitting her solidly in the stomach with his shoulder, knocking them both to the ground.

All the breath went out of her lungs in a surprised _whoof_, and he winced inwardly to feel a rib or three of hers snap under the force of the blow. But immediately, she was struggling again, her face twisted with effort and rage and frustration.

He had the wrist of the hand that held the lightstaff firmly captured and smashed her hand against the floor until she released her grip. Her free hand went immediately to his throat, and he jerked, surprised.

_Force, she has a strong grip!_

He let go of her other wrist to grab at the hand that was now determinedly attempting to strangle him…and now she had both hands around his neck, thumbnails digging painfully into his skin, and he only had one hand free to try to loosen her grip.

_Dammit!_

In retrospect, knocking her to the floor had probably been his first mistake, followed closely by failing to pin both her wrists and knock her out immediately. But Kyle wasn't thinking that clearly anymore. Darkness encroached upon his vision.

He managed to wrap his fingers around one of her wrists, feeling the fragile bones grind painfully together, and yank it aside. Then he moved on to her remaining wrist, wheezing painfully for breath.

Then a herd of banthas ran him over.

Or at least that's what it felt like to him. He flew backwards, crashing painfully through a pillar and leaving a nice big dent in the wall. He slid to the floor, momentarily stunned, trying to clear his vision.

There was Jaden, back on her feet. The staff was in her hand, leveled at him.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," she said quietly. Her saberstaff flew to her free hand and she clipped it back on her belt without looking.

He groaned, shifting his limbs. In his mind, he lunged at her, wrestled the evil thing from her hands…in reality, he gasped in deep breaths of sweet air and couldn't move.

"This isn't the end," she went on, grounding the butt of the staff on the stone floor. "Oh, no. This is just the beginning."

He saw a beam of red light fly from the head of the staff and strike the ceiling. Saw the ceiling crack alarmingly and start to fall. He tried to gather in the Force and hold it back, but his consciousness was scattered and hurting and shocked and he couldn't muster up the power to hold it back completely…

He did, however, manage to keep himself from being injured too badly. After a moment's assessment, he used the Force to throw the heavy blocks aside, clambering painfully out of his makeshift tomb. Jaden wasn't there.

But Luke Skywalker was.

He was somber as he helped Kyle down from the pile of rocks. "Where is Jaden?" he asked.

Kyle frowned. "You didn't run into her?"

Both sets of eyes, brown and blue, were drawn inexorably to the jagged hole in the wall of the tomb. Daylight was a dim flicker beyond. "Oh," said Kyle cleverly.

"I misjudged her," Skywalker said, shaking his head. He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his closed eyelids tiredly. "But there is still some good in her," he continued finally, "though it remains buried underneath the darkness." He looked at Kyle. "You will go after her?"

Kyle nodded, massaging his aching neck. "Yeah. She's my responsibility." He shook his head, looking down. "Two students…gone…maybe I shouldn't be teaching anymore—I mean, I haven't exactly been an exemplary Jedi myself—"

"Even Yoda and Obi-wan lost apprentices," Skywalker reminded him sharply. "Do not judge yourself by one failure. If a student is determined to fail, there is very little a teacher can do to prevent it." Sharp blue eyes pinned Kyle. "We do what we must."

Kyle nodded. "Yeah. That too." He turned and started slowly for the door. He wasn't sure he'd be able to slip through the crack Jaden had made in the wall, and he was hurting too much to really want to try.

"Kyle."

"Huh?" He looked over his shoulder.

"I hope for your success. May the Force be with you."


End file.
